


a sense of belonging

by irlkaijugroupie



Series: the stuff that dreams are made of [2]
Category: Marvel Noir, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, more specific warnings in authors note, noir has anxiety abt stuff and also his funkiness but thats ok his pals love him, noir-centric, noirs funkiness is less of a focus this time around sorry asdjjhfjsf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 04:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17481314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlkaijugroupie/pseuds/irlkaijugroupie
Summary: Noir worries about fitting in, his slight biological strangeness only adding to the burden.





	a sense of belonging

**Author's Note:**

> warning for descriptions of panic attacks and some rlly brief descriptions of body horror and death
> 
> anyways i fucking love noir and i call him noir in this fic bc idk i guess maybe thats a nickname he picks up
> 
> also his job in This fic is private eye and i honestly dont remember if noir quits his job as a photographer in the noir comics or if i just hallucinated that but anyways lets pretend he used to work as a photographic journalist and is now a private eye
> 
> some bits in this are chat fic w nicknames but hopefully its obvious whos who hfdsjdf lmk if it isnt so i can add em here!
> 
> edit: just realized that the summary implies this is a trans noir fic and i mean noir is trans but thats not what its about ajsdjnhjnfjndfj ....maybe i Will write a fic abt noir bein trans i mean ive already projected on him enough

“You use… these bracelets. For webbing,” Noir said. “Weird.”

 

They were at Aunt May’s - of Miles’ universe - house, all of the spider folk, and they were all relaxing in the living room among the plush comfort and yellow hues of Aunt May’s home. They were all huddled with each other, a good amount of food and snacks on the coffee table by them. Noir was fiddling with some of Miles’ web shooters. Peter B shuffles around to look at Noir, his arm resting on the sofa cushion right by where Noir’s body is sprawled. “Well - yeah. We all do.”

 

Noir shook his head, handing the gadget back to Miles. “Not me.” The others looked curiously at him, and anxiety pooled slightly in his gut. Nonetheless, he pulled back the sleeve of his coat and sweater slightly to show the flaps on his wrist. “My webs are all natural.”

 

The anxiety was growing - a mumbling in the back of his head that said ‘They’ll think it’s too strange, disgusting, that you’re not worth their time-’ but instead of all that, they looked intrigued. Porker hopped down from his place on the floor and grabbed his wrist, gaping at his slits.

 

“Woahh!” Porker exclaimed. All the spiders crowded around Noir to look at his wrists, and though he was uncomfortable, he was grateful that they weren’t trying to distance themselves from him, scuttling away and looking at him in fear.

 

“Ohh weird,” Gwen whispered, but she said it with a tone of wonder and not disgust. They all were. Curious - not repulsed.

 

“Why are your webs like,” Miles paused, waving his hands around. “Part of you?”

 

Noir shrugged. “I dunno, I guess the spider that bit me had some extra punch to it.” He didn’t mention the spider goddess, her horrifying body and face still clear as day in his memory, with her long, curled fangs and her -

 

“Oooh,” Peni leaned forward, one of her hands pressing into his shoulder. He didn’t mind. “Did it change you anywhere else?”

 

He hesitated, but nodded. The rest of the spiders leaned in, interested, and though he loved their company he quickly grew restless and uncomfortable under their scrutiny. “Uh-” He tried to sit up, but the weight of his friends resting on him pressed him down. “Not - not now. Sorry.”

 

Instantly the rest of the spiders retreated. He could feel the disappointment, and it rolled around in his chest, thick and heavy. Damn. It seemed like no matter what choice he picked, it was wrong. The spiders had stopped leaning on him but he still felt forced down nonetheless.

 

Like a light switch had been flipped, the rest of the spiders turned their attention to back to what they were doing, the disappointment in the air vanishing so fast that Noir was left slightly dizzy. For the rest of the night none of them had bothered him about it, continuing as if nothing happened, and Noir’s heaviness turned to confusion.

 

He decided to check out early and return to his world - that cold, grey world - instead of staying the rest of the night - in the warm, quiet comfort - in Aunt May’s place. The other spiders were sad to see him go, but it’s out of caring, and they hugged him just as tightly as they usually do. The warmth of the contact almost overwhelmed his growing anxiety.

 

Right as he was about to go, Porker of all people hopped on his shoulder and whispered: “Sorry ‘bout pressing you too much earlier.”

 

Noir shook his head. “No need to,” he said. Porker glared at him, but Noir stepped through the portal into the sheer monochrome of his apartment before he could retort.

 

* * *

 

This case was a tough one. Some intricate webbing of a scandal - independent, untrustworthy person after person, all after some expensive statue of a bird of some sort. He was currently huddled in his apartment, furiously connecting the dots, scribbling madly on scraps of paper, when his ‘phone’ - a strange, flat little thing - buzzed, its screen lighting up with life. Eyebrows furrowing, he picked it up.

 

It was the group conversation - that one was active a lot.

 

_evangelion: soooo wanna hang out soon anyone? ^v^_

 

_im baby call 911: how about a movie?_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: Something interesting just premiered at my place_

 

_im baby call 911: im sorry i dont think i can handle your universe after seeing all the brands you have over there_

 

_gwanda: jsdjsjfjhsdjf hey miles u arent special look at me_

 

Noir looked at the conversation bubbles pop up and pass with a fond amusement. He couldn’t follow their strange talk half the time, but it was nice to just listen.

 

He put the phone back on his desk and went back to his brainstorming when the phone pinged - in a different way, a way that they had explained meant someone specifically asked for him. Confused, he picked it up again.

 

_who framed peter porker: Hey @grandpa!!!! up for a movie at 🅱️’s universe :8D?_

 

Noir’s gut twisted. He’d really love to, but he was so busy, with this case that was quickly spiraling out of control, and all the typical duties he had to the city.

 

With great hesitation and guilt, he typed out a reply.

 

_grandpa: Sorry fellas, I’ve got this case that’s turning out all wet. Could take a while_

 

There was no response for a half a second, and in that short time everything seemed to slow, with Noir’s brain going into haywire, chanting about how he’s disappointed them, how he’s an outcast even among them, how he’s-

 

_gwanda: bnFJKSNDJF_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: Fuck it took me a second to realize what all wet meant_

 

_im baby call 911: MOOD_

 

_grandpa: Yeah it’s rough. Sorry I can’t make it_

 

_evangelion: thats okay! ^U^ im sure you can make it next time!!_

 

_gwanda: its cool man dw abt it_

 

_who framed peter porker: Good luck! :8D!!!!!_

  
_  
_ im baby call 911: gl w the case!!!

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: Yeah good luck!_

 

Noir felt overwhelmed by the stream of messages popping up on the bright screen, a flash of colour in a cold world, a flood of positivity and support - the fact that they were alright and patient with him - engulfed him with emotions. Positive ones. They bubbled in his chest almost painfully, intoxicatingly, and he felt so much love for the people across the screen.

 

_grandpa: Thanks for understanding. Love you all_

 

With half lidded, stinging eyes, a hand rested messily on his cheek, pulling at his lips through with long and strange teeth poked through and make little indents in the flesh of his thumb, he watched as more messages of love - pure love - popped up and on and on, and he stared at the screen for a very long time, long after the conversation had veered off to something else, and he had to physically force himself to turn away and go back to work.

 

* * *

 

It was 2 am. The skies were dark, and with the way things were in Noir’s world, they were almost smothering in their sheer blackness. Noir had awoken with a start, using his own shaking hands to muffle his screams. The darkness seemed to wrap around him like a long, clawed hand, choking and choking at him as he struggled to breathe.

 

Blood. There was blood clearly dripping through his mind’s eye, images of the exposed ribs, the torn flesh of his own Uncle Ben, long, saliva dripping teeth, long, curving hairy legs and the long fangs of the spider goddess, all clearly flashing through his mind, With a low keening sound, he pressed his palms into his eyes until they were sore, but nothing could block out the smells, the thoughts, the slight unreality.

 

He was shaking like a leaf, but he managed to grab at his phone.

 

The light was blinding, and burned at his eyes, but anything was better than the choking darkness. He could barely type through his tears that mottled at his vision and his twitching hands.

 

_grandpa: h_

 

_grandpa: hw_

 

_who framed peter porker: Tall dark n handsome?_

 

_grandpa: porkrer_

 

_who framed peter porker: Tis i_

 

_who framed peter porker: Whats up_

 

_grandpa: he_

 

_who framed peter porker: Hello? help? gimme somethin to work with here :80_

 

_grandpa: shake_

 

_grandpa: hands sh_

 

_who framed peter porker: Your hands are shaking?_

 

_grandpa: yes_

 

_grandpa: bad_

 

_grandpa: very bad_

 

_who framed peter porker: Oh shit_

 

_who framed peter porker: @everyone hey_

 

_evangelion: 0^0??_

 

_gwanda: dude hwat the fuck its like 3 am_

 

_im baby call 911: ^^^ ???_

 

_gwanda: oh shit_

 

_who framed peter porker: Scroll up_

 

_gwanda: just did_

 

_evangelion: oh dear??_

 

_im baby call 911: @🅱️eter 🅱️arker WAKE UP_

 

_grandpa: helo_

 

_evangelion: hey !! : > _

 

 _evangelion: dont worry well be on over in a sec!!!!_  


_grandpa: no_

 

_gwanda: @🅱️eter 🅱️arker @🅱️eter 🅱️arker @🅱️eter 🅱️arker WAKE UPPP_

 

_grandpa: no need_

 

_grandpa: ll be fine_

 

_who framed peter porker: No you wont_

 

_who framed peter porker: Just give us a minute_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: IM UP_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: IM UP_

 

_im baby call 911: GREAT lets all head over to noris place_

 

_gwanda: noris_

 

_evangelion: noris_

 

_im baby call 911: please stop_

 

Noir groaned, low and deep in his chest, the phone finally falling from his trembling hands, its light disappearing off the edge of his bed. With the light left the small sense of solace and comfort he could hold, and he curled into a fetal position, shaking and coughing.

 

He heard a faint sparking noise, and some voices, and he immediately spiraled into even more panic. Tears forced their way down his face, and his fingers were pressed into his cheeks and forehead hard enough to leave indentations.

 

“Hey Noir,” there was a voice. Familiar. Soothing. He croaked out something intelligible.

 

“Don’t worry, it’s just us.” Another voice. “The other spiders. You know us.” He did. He did know them. The other spiders. With twitching arms, he reached out with his arms blindly, and they were met with people holding his hands, resting their hands on his shoulders, his arms, as his sixth sense curled and morphed around like water shrinking in on itself on a flat surface. Ah yes. His source of light, of colour, of comfort, the people he truly loved and yet he was so scared to lose.

 

He was scared. Wheezing blindly, he watched with helplessness as his mind went on a much more negative tangent. They’d be scared off, he knew it. On how much it took to bury his insecurities, on how they’d eventually find out he was a monster - oh god - a monster -

 

“Don’t,” he tried to retract back into himself, trying to open his eyes and being blinded by lovely, wonderful _colour_ \- “Don’t look,” he muttered, turning around to where he faced away from them, covering his face with his hands.

 

Their presence nonetheless was soothing, and he eventually fell into a restless, shallow sleep.

 

* * *

 

He woke up and there was yellow.

 

It blinded him, startling him out of an uncomfortable daze. With a panicked speed, he sat up and whipped his head around, looking for any danger or oddity that could’ve snatched him up.

 

There was no danger or oddity. He was in Aunt May’s house, in Miles’ universe, and everything was soft and warm and alright.

 

He looked down at himself. The black and white of his clothes and body starkly contrasted the soft patterning of the sofa under him and blanket wrapped around him. He wore a messy, wrinkled collared shirt and some plain black pants. With a quiet groan, he hung his head. He must’ve gone to sleep in day clothes again.

 

Sleep. Last night. The nightmares.

 

Panic once again shot through him like one of Miles’ lightning bolts. His hands immediately flew to his mouth, his long, warped teeth picking at his fingers. He could already feel the sweat beginning to coat his skin, making him clammy and smooth, and the too-coarse hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

 

His eyes darted to the kitchen, where he saw faint movement. There was a slight confusion when he saw the kitchen clearly instead of as a mesh of blobs, but he could feel the slight weight of his wire frame glasses on his ears and nose.

 

Peni came into focus. Upon seeing that he was awake - his long black and white face peeking curiously above the patterned couch - her face lit up like a lightbulb, and she ran over, even leaping over the sofa back, to hug him.

 

Noir stammered, before hesitantly hugging her back. After a second of just warm hugging, she leaned back and hollered into the kitchen: “NOIR’S UP!!!!”

 

The other spiders immediately began to run out of the kitchen and into where Noir was. Noir gaped in amazement as they all began to pile on him. His sixth sense thrummed with ecstasy, and his anxiety quickly cooled.

 

“I’ve never seen you without your mask before, Noir!” Miles exclaimed with a big smile. That smile quickly turned sheepish. “You look… A lot like the other Peters.”

 

Noir smiled, just a bit. “What did ya expect?” Miles shrugged and they all chuckled.

 

“Good morning,” Aunt May said with such a soft and kind smile as she handed him some hot cocoa. Noir nodded in thanks as he quietly sipped at it.

 

“You don’t look that bad, honestly,” Porker commented. All the other spiders were still sprawled on or by the couch, creating a little comfy bubble that Noir realized he didn’t really mind at all.

 

“I - I suppose,” Noir mumbled.

 

Gwen piped up. “No really! You don’t look half bad.”

 

Noir looked confusedly at all of them, then looked at his own hand. “Even with… all this.” His hands picked at his teeth. “My teeth are all whacky.” His hand retreated to his cup of cocoa. “My hair’s all coarse. I got so many scars. My web shooters are a part of me. I don’t move like a _person_.”

 

“Now, now,” Peter B. said, leaning forward with that jaunty smile of his, patting his shoulder, “I think that just adds to your charm.” The rest of the spiders nodded in agreement and smiled at Noir in encouragement.

 

Noir felt like his heart was going to burst, and he could feel his eyes sting and see his vision blur. He looked down quickly, embarrassed, and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “...Dammit,” he mumbled, and they all laughed, but not at all in a bad way.

 

* * *

 

He was still working on that damned case on the bird statue - crusted with expensive jewels, his ass - and he was stressed as hell with even more people trying to get in on it and getting involved.

 

For now, he was resting. He was slumped over on his ratty couch in his (nearly) black and white apartment, in his black and white world. The cold was biting, as it always was. Blackness and the fuzziness of sleep was encroaching on the edge of his vision when he heard his phone buzz. It buzzed in the way that said someone specifically asked for him

 

Curious - albeit slightly annoyed - he reached over and looked in the conversation.

 

_im baby call 911: hey @grandpa!!!_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: @grandpa @grandpa_

 

_grandpa: What_

 

_im baby call 911: we got you something! penis sending it over right now_

 

_gwanda: oh my god please put an apostrophe_

 

_im baby call 911: FUCK_

 

_who framed peter porker: Language!!!!!!! >:8( _

 

_im baby call 911: oh my god peni im so sorry_

 

_evangelion: ddfjbsjfd_

 

_evangelion: its okay ^v^_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: is it. Is it really_

 

_grandpa: Haha_

 

_grandpa: What are you guys sending me_

 

_who framed peter porker: Its a seeecret~ ;8)_

 

_grandpa: I’m intrigued_

 

_evangelion: we all pitched in a little bit for this!! even aunt may ovo_

 

_evangelion: okay sending it over rn!!!_

 

Right as that message was sent, a vivid green portal opened up right in front of Noir. He looked up, staring at the swirling colours, entranced by their brightness and movements. When they vanished, he looked down and saw a rather decently sized box in his lap.

 

 _evangelion: did you get it???_  


_grandpa: Yes_

 

_gwanda: NICE_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: WOO_

 

_im baby call 911: OPEN IT_

 

_who framed peter porker: Yeah!!! Open it!!!! :8D_

 

_grandpa: On it_

 

With dextrous hands, he peeled back the (very colourful) wrapping, trying his hardest not to damage it too much. He fetched a knife once he saw the tape, and cut it open to reveal…

 

Two very long, very plush scarves. Noir gaped as he looked at them, reaching into the box and feeling how soft, how real they were. Huge, wool scarves. And - even better - one was absolutely bursting in colours - all sorts - of the rainbow. They were obnoxiously bright and Noir felt emotions well up and bubble within him like boiling water.

 

_im baby call 911: ...well?_

 

_grandpa: Im._

 

_grandpa: By god, I’m blowing my wig, this is absolutely swell_

 

_gwanda: youre blowing your WHAt_

 

_im baby call 911: WIG??_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: It’s old slang kids_

 

_gwanda: i know but STILL hJHDFJ_

 

_evangelion: SFHJDFNJSNKD_

 

_grandpa: Really. They’re aces. Thanks fellas_

 

_evangelion: 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖_

 

_who framed peter porker: Of course!! :8D_

 

_who framed peter porker: We made two_

 

_who framed peter porker: one with colour and another black n white so you can wear it around without freakin people out :8)_

 

_im baby call 911: ^^^_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: We needed a bit of Aunt May’s help in actually getting around to knitting it though_

 

_grandpa: They’re wonderful_

 

_gwanda: glad you like it you funky old man_

 

_grandpa: I’m not old_

 

_gwanda: yeah you are you still let autocorrect add apostrophes to your contractions_

 

_im baby call 911: thats a good thing dont let gwen fool you_

 

_im baby call 911: dont repeat my mistakes_

 

Noir burst out in deep, bellowing laughter, wrapping the colourful scarf around his neck and reveling in its warmth. They made this for him.

 

They were his family.

 

_gwanda: yknow theres whole groups of people on the internet nowadays who are totally into long teeth theyd be all over you_

 

_grandpa: oh really?_

 

_🅱️eter 🅱️arker: Gwen don't you dare_

**Author's Note:**

> (snoop dogg voice) ham using emojis with 8 as a nose is the cutest shit ive ever seen
> 
> if youve watched the maltese falcon clap ur hands


End file.
